Page 14 of Deadly Devotion

“Yes, sir. Since it’s so close to sunrise, I thought I’d stay awake to see it. The colors are brilliant this time of year.” Standing and moving his cup and saucer from the table to the counter, he removes a plate of food from the stove. “The food is warm, sir. May I set it down for you?”

“Thank you, Abram, but I will take care of it. Go enjoy your tea and sunrise.” Taking the plate, I set it down on the table. Curiosity gets the better of me, and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Did the girl eat?”

“Yes, sir. However, she decided soup and crackers would be best. She said her stomach wasn’t well. I gave her mint to help settle it.”

“How was her demeanor?”

“To be frank, sir, she wasn’t a fan of being locked in the bedroom. I took the liberty to reiterate that it was for her own protection. She is a lovely girl.”

I nod, dismissing him to enjoy his tea, although his words stir the beast in my chest. Abram has been with my family since I was a young boy, and even though he is no longer a young man, a pang of jealousy shoots through me at hearing him call Talia ‘lovely’. I shake off the feeling, recognizing how ridiculous it is. I’ve never been jealous of a man, indeed not of Abram. He’s a father figure to me and always will be.

Checking the clock, I see it’s almost time to meet Dimitri. Finishing my meal, I put the plate and utensils in the sink, then fish the SUV keys out of my pocket. I scribble a quick note letting the nanny know I must speak with Sasha and Maxim in the morning. Releasing a heavy sigh, I turn on my heels and leave through the side door that connects with the garage. If all goes well, Mikhail’s killer will be identified within a few hours.

Chapter 10

Talia

“Oooooh, not again….” I make it to the bathroom in the nick of time to deal with another bout of morning sickness. The sun is barely up, and I want to crawl back into bed. Pulling myself off the floor, I examine my reflection in the mirror.I’m not winning any beauty contests today.Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I splash cool water on my face and then search the cabinets for a toothbrush and toothpaste. Hitting the jackpot, I brush the sour taste out of my mouth and return to the bedroom.

Spotting a note on the nightstand next to the bed, I pick it up, admiring the neat handwriting. It reads, ‘The closet has been filled with clothes in your size. Please feel free to freshen up.’Thank goodness! I can’t imagine walking around smelling like vomit all day. It’s difficult enough trying to hide my pregnancy.

The walk-in closet is bigger than Sandy’s entire apartment. I’m in awe of all the beautiful clothing. Evening gowns and dresses hang on the left side. Blouses, tops, and slacks hang on the right. Straight ahead are rows and rows of gorgeous shoes. I pick up a pair of black strappy heels and turn them over to marvel at the red bottoms.Holy shit.These heels cost more than the monthly rent on the apartment. Carefully placing them back on the shelf, I browse the clothing options, selecting a cotton pink v-neck top and a pair of casual cream slacks. Everything fits perfectly except for one teeny tiny problem. I can’t button the slacks. My little baby bump is preventing me from closing them, no matter how much I try to suck in my belly. Putting the slacks back, I opt for cream stretch leggings. Cute cream ballet flats finish the ensemble.

As I leave the closet, I hear knocking on the bedroom door. A muscular man with a scar on his right cheek unlocks the door and opens it slightly. “Miss, are you decent?” he calls out in a thick Russian accent.

“Yes, please come in. Hi, I’m Talia.” I hold my hand out for him to shake, but he just stares at it.

“I am Nikolai. You come, I take you to breakfast.” He gestures toward the door, and I obey.

He leads me down the long hallway to the grand staircase and into the kitchen. Abram is speaking with the chef, and I see an older woman and two young children sitting at the table. The little girl has long blonde hair and green eyes, and the boy has raven-colored hair and the same ice-blue eyes as Aleksandr.

“You’re pretty,” the little girl says, jumping up from her seat to greet me. “What’s your name?” she asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Before I can answer, the older woman scolds the girl. “Sasha, where are your manners? Sit down and finish your breakfast.” She guides the girl back to the table and then faces me. “I am Olga Popov, the children’s nanny. This is Sasha and Maxim. Will you join us for breakfast?” She motions to an empty chair at the table.

“Thank you.” I sit in the empty chair across from the boy, Maxim. “Hello,” I greet.

Narrowing his eyes, he looks me over before deciding to reply. “Hi. Are you a friend of Uncle’s?” he asks while scooping scrambled eggs into his mouth?

“Oh, um…yes, I am.” I give him a tight smile, wondering if these children belong to Aleksandr’s brother, Mikhail. “Are you visiting your uncle today?”

“No, silly!” Sasha giggles. “We live here.”

“Oh, how nice. Do your parents live here too?”

“Mama died,” Maxim replied. “And Otets lives in a different house.” He scoops another forkful of eggs into his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of juice.

“Mama was sick. I don’t remember much about her because I was too little when it happened.” Sasha pushes eggs around her plate while munching on a strawberry.

“The children have lived here for two years,” Olga chimes in. “Mr. Avilov is a very generous man.”

Giving her a small smile, I turn to look at Sasha. “I’m so sorry about your mother. I lost my mother when I was little, too.” Without realizing it, I begin rubbing circles around my wrist tattoo, thinking about my parents. The only thing I have left of them is an old photo. “You know, Maxim, you have the same color eyes as your uncle,” I remark.

“I know,” he smiles. “Otets has the same color eyes, too.” He hands his empty plate to Abram, who puts another scoop of eggs on it. His eyes light up with excitement when Abram returns the plate with more eggs and potatoes. “Thanks, Abram!”

Directing my attention to Nikolai, I see him standing in the kitchen corner, drinking coffee, but his eyes are glued to me. Clearing my throat nervously, I glance out the window, admiring the meticulously manicured garden.

“For you, Miss Talia,” Abram says, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and potatoes before me. Without warning, my stomach flips, making me feel like I’m going to be sick. “Are you alright?”

---